


with eyes of the bluest sky (sweet child of mine)

by jessicawhitly



Series: and now i see daylight [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: She doesn’t really need the test to tell her what she already knows.It’s- a formality, in a sense. She sits on the cold tile floor, back pressed to the bathtub as she waits for the egg timer to ding, three strips of plastic balanced precariously on the ledge of the bathroom sink. She’d had to wait until all of the boys and El were out of the house to dig her purchase out of the nondescript paper bag purchased two towns over she’d had shoved in her purse for the last three weeks and assume the familiar position.





	with eyes of the bluest sky (sweet child of mine)

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this before season three aired, and then didn't feel like coming up with a way for Hopper to come back, so- the jist is it's set in 1987 and I guess Hopper just never disappeared? We'll go with that. Title is from Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses. Please let me know what you think! This fic is very close to my heart and I just love this fam a whole lot.

She doesn’t _really_ need the test to tell her what she already knows.

It’s- a formality, in a sense. She sits on the cold tile floor, back pressed to the bathtub as she waits for the egg timer to ding, three strips of plastic balanced precariously on the ledge of the bathroom sink. She’d had to wait until all of the boys and El were out of the house to dig her purchase out of the nondescript paper bag purchased two towns over she’d had shoved in her purse for the last three weeks and assume the familiar position.

But she’s done this twice before- she knows her body. She’s been through the all-day nausea and migraines and body aches. She knows, when the ding sounds and she pushes herself off the floor, she’s going to find three pink plus signs staring up at her. She knows it, but her breath still catches in her chest, mind going blank when she sees them.

A baby. In her mid-forties. With her second husband. With two nearly fully-grown kids- well, three. El was as good her kid as Jonathan and Will were, she couldn’t deny that. And now there’d be four. Four kids in their clan of misfits, glued together by love.

The sound of the door slamming startles her back to reality, and Joyce hurries to wrap the tests up in toilet paper and shove them deep into the trashcan before splashing cold water on her face, pressing her palms into her eyes briefly.

“Mom, we’re home!” Will’s voice calls through the door, and her heart twists at the lack of squeak to it, betraying the growth spurt he was currently in, puberty dropping her baby’s voice octaves until it nearly matched his older brother’s.

“I’ll be right out, baby!” she calls back, drying her face with a towel and glancing in the mirror briefly, adjusting her bangs before she pulls the door open, the clamor of kids hitting her ears instantly.

“Joyce!” El’s happy voice catches her first, and then the teenager barreled into her for a hug, head barely tucked into her chin. She was growing- too fast for either her or Hop- and Joyce turned slightly to brush a kiss over her temple.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was school?” she asks, moving to the kitchen and shuffling things around in the fridge, attempting to figure out a plan for dinner.

“It was good. We learned about photosynthesis today! And more math,” El makes a face at that, and Joyce’s smile grows. “Can we get pizza tonight? Dad always likes pizza night.”

“That’s because your father’s blood is practically pizza sauce,” Joyce rolls her eyes, but she can’t say she isn’t tempted- the idea of having to make a meatloaf when she could just dial a number and have someone else put the effort into dinner is simply too exhausting. “Alright. Since it’s Friday.”

“Really?!” El and Will both perk up, and even Jonathan turns around from his seat on the couch, lifting an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask again, or I’ll change my mind,” Joyce lifts an eyebrow, and Will mimes zipping his lips and tossing the key. Joyce chuckles fondly, clearing the counter and heading towards the phone. “What do you want on it? I’ll call Hopper, see if he wants anything special.”

“Pepperoni!”

“Mushrooms! And olives!”

“Ew, gross. Just cheese please!”

Joyce dials Hopper’s desk phone, hoping he hadn’t been called on a case or decided to take a cruise- it rings twice before it’s picked up, and her lips curl upwards involuntarily at the gruff “’Lo?” that she gets.

“Hi. It’s me.”

“Hey, baby. Everything okay? Kids good?” she softens at the quick change in her husband’s demeanor, leaning her hip against the wall and twirling the phone cord around her forefinger.

“The kids are fine. They convinced me to agree to pizza for dinner,” she tells him, and Hopper chuckles, the line fuzzing out briefly. “Feel like stopping on your way home, Chief?”

“What’d the monsters want?”

“One cheese, one half pepperoni and half mushroom and olive,” she replies, listening to his pencil scrape against the paper. “And can you just get me one of the antipasto salads?”

“I mean I can, but what’s the point of caving to pizza night without eating any pizza?” he asks, and Joyce shrugs even though she knows he can’t see.

“Just not feeling the grease tonight. Maybe if you heathens leave me some I’ll have leftovers tomorrow,” she teases, and Hopper snorts. “Think Hawkins will fall apart if you clock out at 4?”

“I think Flo’ll keep the town in check for me,” he replies, and she bites her lip to contain the smile. “See ya in a bit, babe.”

“Bye, hun,” she says, and hangs the phone up with a click.

“Dad’s getting the pizza?” El says, eyes bright, and Joyce nods. El turns, exchanging a high five with Will that causes Joyce to roll her eyes good-naturedly.

“Alright, set the table, please. Jonathan, is Nancy joining us?” she looks to her eldest, who nods.

“She’s bringing Mike, too,” he tells her, and Joyce looks at El, who manages to look vaguely contrite.

“Set an extra place. On Will’s _other_ side,” she emphasizes, and El sighs, but does as she’s asked. “I have some laundry to finish, behave yourselves until the Wheelers get here, please.”

The kids all give an affirmative noise, so Joyce makes her way into the basement, where there’s already an impressive pile of laundry, despite the three loads she’d done the weekend. The product of a household of five people, she knows, but it still astounds her, how her grown son still couldn’t figure out the mechanics of the washing machine, despite a year at NYU under his belt.

She begins sorting through the piles, tossing the colors in first- she collects three pens (all Will’s), two dollars and fifteen cents (nearly all Jonathan’s, now hers), and a collection of gum and candy wrappers (mostly El’s, but also Hopper’s, which he’d get an earful for later, since he was supposed to be watching how much sugar he ate, according to the doctor). She starts one load, and places the whites in one of the empty baskets at her feet- as she straightens, her eyes stray to some of the cardboard boxes on the other side of the basement that held items she hadn’t been able to throw away when they’d moved into their new house, fit to accommodate all of them.

The one marked _Baby Things_ inevitably catches her eye- Hop had teased her, but she’d pointed out they’d have grandkids soon enough, and he’d laid off, face darkening at the reminder that their children were, in fact, growing up before their eyes. She brushes her fingers over the top of the box, unable to force herself to open it.

She’d given away a decent amount of things when Karen had been pregnant with Holly, who had been an oops baby as well, just not quite as far out as this kid would be. But she’d held onto some of the more sentiment things- outfits she’d loved the most, books the boys had loved best, and a few rather ragged stuffed animals that had been hugged a little too hard over the years.

It’s not as bizarre a concept as she thought it would be, imagining a new child loving these items once more. A little sandy haired being with big blue eyes and a grin leaning toward cheeky that she knew would have her wrapped around their finger the moment they entered the world. Hop too- he was a softie beneath the gruffness he wore like an overcoat, and it grew thinner the longer they were together; the longer El was in his life, bringing back the light he’d lost with Sara.

Joyce only belated realizes she has her hand pressed over her middle when she hears the door slam shut upstairs, and she shifts it away swiftly, swallowing hard.

When she gets back upstairs, Jim is coming in the door, calling for help with the multiple pizza boxes in his hands.

“Hey, baby,” he says, bending to kiss her once he’s inside and the kids have taken the pizza to the table, a hand sliding down her side until it landed on her ass, squeezing before he pulled away to shrug out of his jacket and hang it up. Joyce lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop the smirk her lips curl into. She could accommodate that mood, depending on if the kids could be persuaded to spend the night under the stars.

“We eat in here,” El reminds him, lifting an eyebrow, to which Hopper looks at Mike, lifting his own eyebrow.

“You didn’t clear him with me tonight, so I’d keep quiet, there, missy,” he replies, and El presses her lips together, sinking into her seat and sliding a piece of pizza onto her plate while Mike’s face turns red. Joyce bites back her laugh, leaning against the counter and watching everyone fill their plates and making sure everyone had a drink while Hopper changed out of his uniform and into a pair of jeans and an old, worn t-shirt.

“How was work?” she asks once he rejoined her in the kitchen, pulling a beer out of the fridge. She shook her head at the one he offered her, glad he barely questioned it. She rarely drank when there were kids other than theirs at the house, but it would be just her luck he’d find it out of the ordinary on just this one night. She needed to find the words to tell him their lives were about the change in her own time- and not in front of their kids.

“Slow as shit. The night shift was setting up a paper airplane contest when I left,” Hopper snorts, and Joyce crinkles her nose, shaking her head. “You?”

“I remember why I never wanted to be a secretary,” she replies, and sighs as she shrugs. “The temp agency said it’d try to get me something that didn’t involve typing at a computer for eight hours a day next time.”

“I’m telling you, babe, come work for me. You’d make a great detective,” her husband nudges her, tugging a smile onto her face, and she sinks against him, savoring his warmth.

“Pretty sure the department frowns upon husband and wife partnerships,” she replies, allowing her head to pillow on his bicep, nose brushing his skin briefly as she inhales the scent of cigarette smoke and deodorant and early summer sweat. “Think the kids will sleep outside tonight? It isn’t supposed to rain.”

“The Wheeler kid spending the night?” Hopper asks, distaste in his voice, and Joyce snorts.

“Both Wheeler kids are spending the night, Hop. I’m sure by 7 we’ll have the whole swam of ‘em in our backyard,” she tells him, and he groans, but there’s no venom in it.

“I’ll set the tents up after we eat,” he answers, and Joyce nods, simply settling herself into his side and watching the kids scarf down the pizza and practically dart outside, wanting to soak up the summer sun. Joyce cleans up the plates, dumping them all in the sink before she sinks into one of the kitchen chairs, pulling the plastic container of salad towards her.

“Seriously? No pizza?” Hopper says, lifting an eyebrow, and Joyce shrugs, picking at the lettuce.

“I’m perfectly content with my salad, thank you very much,” she replies before popping an olive into her mouth, and then promptly spitting it into a napkin, face scrunching up. Hopper watches her in amusement, eyebrow arched. “It tasted funny!”

He snorts, shaking his head and lifting a slice of pizza to his lips, and Joyce tries to wash the taste of olives out of her mouth with lemonade, face crinkling as she swallows.

“You hear Starcourt’s getting a new store?” he asks as they’re cleaning up a little while later, and she shakes her head, lifting her head out of the fridge, where she’s trying to stack the pizza boxes so they all fit. “That Disney store they started out in California? They’re opening one here in August.”

“The kids’ll like that,” she replies, finally getting the last box to fit into the back corner, shutting the fridge. “Want help with the tents?”

“Nah, I’ll make the kids do it. Pick a movie?” he suggests, and Joyce nods, smiling when he drops a kiss to her cheek on his way out the back door. She finishes wiping down the counters and plops herself down on the couch, channeling surfing until she finds Casablanca playing, halfway through.

She’s half paying attention to the movie, half trying to figure out when in her schedule she can fit in a doctor’s appointment when the back door opens and shuts, and Hopper drops himself next to her on the couch. Her nose wrinkles, and she looks up at him.

“You smell,” she informs him, and he dramatically lifts an arm up, sniffing.

“Must have been the manual labor I was doing so we could have the house to ourselves for a night,” he answers, and Joyce laughs, attempting to squirm away when he grabs at her.

“Hop- Hop, stop it!” she laughs, finally relenting when he pulled her closer, settling her in his lap. “Wanna take a shower together? We haven’t had the chance to do that in a while.”

“I like the sound of that,” he replies, palming her ass before he bends his head to kiss her, and then stands, bringing her with him. She gasps against his mouth, wrapping her arms and legs around him for stability before carefully letting her feet drop to the floor. She turns, shutting the television off and righting the pillows on the couch before she faced him once more.

“We still have to be quiet,” she reminds him as his arm winds around her waist, tugging her against his tall frame. Hopper smirks, bending until he can press his lips to hers again, lifting her body until her toes were on the ground and their heights were vaguely more even. Joyce hummed happily, sinking into the kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging gently on the hair at the base of his skull.

Hopper groaned gently, hands sinking to her ass until he can lift her up fully; Joyce presses her thighs to his hips, locking her ankles against his upper thighs.

“C’mon. Shower,” Joyce pushes at his shoulder, nudging him in the direction of their bedroom. He takes the hint, and trudges them down the hall; he stops halfway and presses her into the wall, drawing a moan from her as he presses the seam of her jeans against the crux of her thighs. Heat spreads through her like wildfire, and she bucks against him. “ _Hop._ ”

He kisses along her neck until he finds her jaw, sucking at the hinge of it, and Joyce lets out a soft moan.

“Shower,” she nudges at him, unable to help the way she grins when he nips at her pulse point. “Ten more feet to the left, sweetheart.”

He heaves an overdramatic sigh, but pulls away from the wall, hands under her thighs as he makes his way to their bedroom and kicks the door shut behind him.

_

“Johnson and his wife are havin’ a kid,” Hopper says when he gets back into the bedroom, cracking open a window to cool the room. Joyce hums, watching him pick up some stray clothes around the room before he joins her on the mattress. The thoughts swirl around her head, and suddenly she can’t keep the news to herself a moment longer, but fear stops her from being upfront, so her next words are a question.

“Do you ever think about it?” she asks quietly, her gaze not leaving the ceiling, watching the fan spin lazily on its lowest setting. She feels her husband turn his head to look at her, but she keeps looking upward. “Us- having a baby.”

The silence hangs in the room, heavy, until Hopper clears his throat.

“Yeah,” he finally says, and Joyce’s throat tightens. “Used to think about it all the time. But I figured…if it was something we were meant for, we’d have it. We already got so much- the boys, and El…just this whole _life_ we’ve got, even after everything. Figured we were lucky enough to have this family, and it’d be tempting fate to hope for more. No matter how much time I’ve spent thinkin’ about what a kid we’d make together would look like.”

The backs of Joyce’s eyes burn by the time he’s finished speaking, and she takes a deep breath, reaching over until she can find one of his hands, and bring it to rest over her bare lower abdomen. She lifts her face to his, finding his eyes searching hers, confusion in his expression.

“It isn’t tempting fate,” she whispered, her other hand trembling as it lifts to touch his cheek. “I’m pregnant, Jim.”

His face freezes, staring at her, until a smile creeps over his expression slowly.

“Pregnant?” he manages to get out, voice hoarse, and she nods, laughter spilling out of her when he hauls her on top of him, kissing all over her face.

“How long have you known?” he asks, pulling back, and she braces her palms on his chest.

“I took three tests today. I have to go to the doctors to confirm but…I thought maybe you’d want to be there,” she says, voice quiet as her gaze drops to her fingers, and her husband’s fingers tilt her gaze back up to his.

“Of course I want to be there,” he replies, firm but gentle, and pushes her bangs out of her eyes. “A baby, Joy.”

She beams at that, leaning into his hand.

“It’s going to change a lot,” she starts, and Hopper shakes his head, kissing her and cutting her off.

“We’ll adjust. It’s good change. We’re growing,” he says, and Joyce softens, fingers stroking over his early summer beard. He kisses her fingers, then leans over and grabs at the cigarettes on the bedside table. Joyce frowns, batting them away.

“You’re quitting. We’re having a baby,” she pins him with a look, and he groans softly, hands on her hips before he rolls them, hovering above her.

“First it’s sugar, now it’s my smokes- what’s next, my beer?” he asks, and Joyce snorts, palms wrapping around his biceps as her foot slid down his calf. “My coffee?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Hop.”

_

Joyce makes a doctor’s appointment for two weeks later, and Hopper picks her up from work on their lunch breaks. A nervous, excited energy seems to pass between them as he drives to the clinic the next town over, and Joyce’s foot taps nonstop as they sit in the waiting room until Hopper gently encloses her knee in his palm, squeezing gently.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss her temple. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Joyce takes a breath, leaning into Hopper until a nurse with a clipboard called her name, and then she was darting out of her seat, wringing her hands as she followed her down the hall. They weigh her and do the preliminary tests, and then once she’s in a room is told to put on the paper gown and wait for the doctor.

“I hate this part,” she grumbles, and Hopper laughs from his seat beside her. “You just like that you can see my ass in this excuse of a gown.”

“It’s certainly not a con,” he replies, and Joyce rolls her eyes just as there’s a knock on the door, and the doctor pokes his head in.

“Mrs. Hopper?” he asks, and Joyce nods, focusing her attention on him. “We’ve been over your bloodwork, and we were able to confirm that you are indeed pregnant.”

Joyce lets out a soft little noise, unable to help the smile her lips curl into as she looks back at her husband, who’s got the gentlest, softest expression she’s ever seen on his face.

“We’d put your due date at around January 15th,” the doctor continues, and Joyce’s hand strays to her midsection. “Your iron levels are a little low, so I’d recommend a supplement. Next appointment we’ll make for about six weeks from now, and we should be able to get a pretty decent picture.”

Joyce nods, and the doctor does the routine checks of her heart and lungs and abdomen before sending her back out to schedule her next appointment. Hopper hovers, and the moment they’re back in the Blazer, he’s got his hands on her face, pulling her in for a kiss. Joyce responds easily, arms sliding around his neck to tug him as close as the front cab would allow.

“Hop,” she finally gets out, breathless, unable to stop herself from laughing as Hopper steals another kiss before pulling back.

“’M so god damn happy,” he murmurs, stroking her hair back before cupping her face in his palms, thumbs on her cheekbones. “We’re really havin’ a baby, Joyce.”

“Yeah,” Joyce replies, shoulders soft as she wraps her hands around her wrists, holding him close. “We’re really having a baby, honey.”

“We gotta tell the kids,” he says, and Joyce shakes her head, lips forming a frown as she squeezes his hands gently.

“Not- not just yet. I want to wait until we make sure everything is…okay,” she tells him, and when his eyebrows knit together, she swallows. “Something could still happen, for the next few weeks. I just want to…play it safe. Okay?”

Understanding washes over his expression, and tenderness replaces the confusion as he pulls her closer, kissing her head.

“Okay. We can wait,” he replies, and Joyce lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “Where does the kid want to get lunch?”

Joyce laughs, and swipes at her eyes quickly before sitting up.

“We passed a diner on our way here- why not there? Soup sounds good.”

_

She’s so much more _exhausted_ this time around.

Even with Will and Jonathan her first trimester had been the hardest, and that had been almost twenty years ago. Now, she had a hard time not feeling like she needed a nap at three in the afternoon nearly every day. She’d adjusted her working hours- she only worked until 2, and most days did come home and lie down for at least an hour.

Will and El finished school, and as June crept along, inching towards July, they spent most of their days out with their friends, while Jonathan spent his days at the paper, developing pictures. For the most part, Joyce feels like she’s able to slip the symptoms of her pregnancy under the radar- she wasn’t sick very often, her actual morning sickness tending to strike later in the evening, after the kids had gone out once more.

In July, when she’s into her second trimester and there’s a hint of _something_ there- nothing noticeable to anyone but her, really, and Hopper claimed to be able to tell the infinitesimal difference when he ran his hands over her- she decides it’s time to tell their kids. They choose a night when all of them are supposed to be home for dinner- a rare occasion during the summer.

Joyce spends the whole afternoon nervous and jittery. She makes a pasta salad and a pitcher of lemonade and is in the process of putting a chocolate cake in the oven when the door opens, and in floods a rush of noise.

“Hi Mom!” Will shouts, kicking off his sneakers by the door, and Joyce turns, smiling as she sets the timer for the cake.

“Hey, baby. How was Mike’s?” she asks, kissing El’s head as the girl gives her a quick, damp hug before heading off down the hall.

“We went to the pool. El’s really good at chicken!” he tells her, and El turns back to nod eagerly, grinning. Joyce shakes her head fondly, amused.

“Go and get changed, Hop’s making burgers for dinner once he gets home,” she tells them, and they both cheer before disappearing into their rooms. She’s setting the table, butterflies in her belly when the door opens again, and both Hopper and Jonathan walk in together, mid-conversation.

“-think it might just be the belt, that’s an easy fix,” Hopper’s saying, and Jonathan nods, both setting their keys in the dish as the door shuts. “I’ll take a look after dinner, sound good? Harvey’s is open late if we need anything, otherwise I can take ya to work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Hop,” her son says, and Hopper claps him on the back affectionately before he looks over at Joyce, lips curving upwards. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Everything okay?” she asks, eyebrows furrowing together. Jonathan shrugs.

“AC’s busted in the car. Hopper said he’d look at it for me,” he replies, hanging his camera on the hook. “Will and El back yet?”

“Yeah, they’re changing from the pool. Dinner should be ready in twenty,” she answers, and Jonathan nods, heading for his room.

Hopper rounds the counter, hat already off, and bends his neck to kiss her- Joyce hums, lifting up onto her toes as she reaches her arms around his neck, prolonging the embrace. Hopper’s hand squeezed her hip, his other arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Hey,” he murmurs when they part, brushing his nose along hers. She smiles, nose crinkling, and reaches up to kiss him again, soft and sweet this time.

“Hi. Good day?” she asked, and he shrugs, thumb stroking over her lower belly between them.

“You ready for this?” he asks, voice low, and Joyce nods, hands stroking along his beard.

“Yeah. I am,” she leans up and kisses him once more, and then nudges at his chest. “Go start the grill, I’ll bring the burgers out to you.”

Her husband nods, hand squeezing her hip before he heads for the back deck; Joyce watches, heart warm in her chest, until she moves over to the fridge, pulling the meat out of the fridge. She feels fine- hasn’t felt nauseous all day, in all honesty, for the first time in weeks- but the moment she peels the plastic wrap back and the smell of raw meat hits her nose, bile rises in her throat and it’s all she can do to make it to the sink in time.

She holds her hair out of her face as best she can until she hears a panicked “Joyce?!” from El, and then gentle hands taking over and gathering the brunette strands into a ponytail. The water starts running next, and when Joyce straightens up, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, El has a glass of cold water waiting for her, and Will and Jonathan stand another foot behind her, faces filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” El asked, eyebrows knit with concern, and Joyce offers her a small smile, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she promises, but none of the trio looks convinced.

“Are you sick?” Will asks, looking stricken, and Joyce beckons him over, wrapping him in a hug just as Hopper opens the sliding door.

“Joy? Grill’s started, you got the-” he stops at the sight before him, and Joyce can’t help but let out a small, soft laugh.

“I think we have to change our plan, sweetheart,” she tells him, and all three of the kids look between them, faces tight. “Come on guys, take a seat.”

They all settle on the couch, Joyce with Will under one arm and Jonathan close to her other side, and El curled into Hopper’s side next to Will, the two of them holding hands.

“So you guys have noticed that I haven’t been feeling my best,” Joyce starts, and she feels both boys and El tense at her words. “But I’m _fine_ guys. I really am. I’m…better than fine, actually.”

She looks at Hopper, unable to stop the way her shoulders soften, warmth pooling in her chest.

“I’m pregnant,” she continues, and all three kids give a soft gasp. “In January you guys will have another little sibling. I know it’s a big change, but it’s an exciting one.”

“A baby?” El asks, her expression unreadable; Joyce nods, reaching over to stroke her hair back behind her ear, and frowning when the teenager barely reacted. She looks at Will and Jonathan, trying to gage their reactions.

“Another brother would be cool,” Will finally concedes with a nod, and Joyce’s lips curled up into a grin.

“Or another sister,” Jonathan adds, and El half-smiles at him. Joyce brings all of them into a tight hug, meeting Hopper’s gaze over their heads, his gaze on them soft and warm and she beckons him with her fingers until he leans over El and joins the hug, dropping a kiss to Joyce’s head.

“Gonna start the food,” he rumbles, standing, and Jonathan offers to help, getting up to join him. El disappears down the hall without a word, and Joyce watches, frowning slightly until Will catches her attention.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” he asks, and Joyce shrugs.

“We don’t know. We won’t know until they’re born,” she tells him, and Will nods, still curious.

“Where will they sleep?”

“We’ll make the guest room a nursery,” Joyce answers. “And we’re going to make part of the basement into a guest space, so when your friends come over they’ll have a place to stay.”

“Can we get a tv down there?” Will asks, and Joyce laughs, kissing his head before she stands up.

“We’ll think about it, how does that sound?” she replies, offering her hands to him and tugging him to his feet. “Let’s get the rest of the food out while the burgers are cooking.”

By the time they climb into bed that night, Joyce is nearly dead on her feet; Hopper catches her dozing with her toothbrush in her mouth, chin nearly touching her chest.

“No nap today?” he asks, amused, and Joyce shakes her head, burrowing in his chest and yawning.

“No time. I wanted to have everything ready to tell the kids,” she mumbles, and he drops a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her waist to secure her against him. “El isn’t excited.”

He heaves a sigh, rubbing her back.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to her. See what’s up,” he tells her, and she hums, clearly already half-asleep. “Get some sleep, babe.”

“Love you,” she murmurs, nuzzling his chest, and then she’s out, soft little snores issuing from her mouth. Hopper settles in, lazily stroking his fingers along her back as he contemplates El and how best to approach her for a heart to heart- aka his favorite kind of conversation.

_

Joyce and the boys are out shopping, so Hopper figures it’s the best afternoon to have a real heart to heart with El. He knows the baby news wasn’t sitting well with her- she’d been moody and withdrawn for the last few days, and while she hadn’t directly taken it out on anyone, it was tingeing Joyce’s happiness considerably, though she’d never say anything outside the confines of their bedroom, late at night.

He raps his knuckles on El’s door, taking a breath.

“Hey, kid. Can I come in?”

At the soft “yes” he receives, he opens the door- El is huddled on her bed, a comic book in front of her that it looks like she’d barely flipped through. She has her knees up to her chest, brunette locks messy around her face, and for a moment she looks so damn _young_ his chest aches.

Hopper sinks onto the foot of the bed, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he watches El put the comic away and wrap her arms around her knees.

“I think we need to have a talk,” he starts, trying to keep his voice even and gentle as El seems to curl even further in on herself. “You’ve been unhappy ever since Joyce and I told you guys about the baby.”

El bites her lip and shakes her head, her expression pained as her fingers clench against her arms.

“It’s okay to not know how to feel,” Hopper offered, trying to give her the space to explain her feelings without putting words in her mouth, and El shakes her head again.

“You’ll…forget about me,” she finally says, voice barely above a whisper, and Hopper feels something twist in his chest. “With the baby you won’t need me anymore.”

“El…” Hopper can’t say anything more before he leans over and pulls her closer, crushing her to his chest. She gives a little hiccup before a sob comes loose, and he strokes her hair as she buries her face in his shirt and cries. “Sweetheart I can promise you that that is never gonna happen. Not in a million years. There is nothing on this planet- in this _universe_ \- that could make me forget about you.”

El hiccups, lifting her head to look at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears still wet on her cheeks.

“Promise?” she whispers, and he nods, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

“With all my heart, kid,” he replies, reaching to wipe away her tears. “This baby is going to change things, but never what you and I have. Okay?”

El looks at him for a few long moments, studying his face, before she nods, hiccupping again.

“Is Joyce mad at me?” she asks, looking at her hands in her lap, and Hopper shakes his head, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

“She isn’t mad, El. She just loves you, and it’s hard for her to see you unhappy, especially when it’s not something she can fix,” he answers, and El sniffles, eyes watering again. “But that’s the thing about families, you know? We forgive each other, because we love each other.”

El is quiet for a bit, and Hopper is content to sit there with her pressed into his side in the silence.

“I am happy. To be a big sister,” she finally says, voice soft, and Hopper allows himself a small smile, bending his neck to drop a kiss to the top of her head.

“And you’re gonna be a great one, El,” he replies, and she looks up at him, lips finally curving up into a grin. “You hungry?”

El nods, wiping away the last traces of tears. “Can we go and get waffles?”

“Yeah, kid,” Hopper says, softening as some of his daughter’s bounce came back. “Diner’s practically callin’ our names.”

El beams and takes his hand as she tugs him out of the room, not dropping it until she has to put her shoes on, and he feels just a little bit of balance settle back into place.

When they return from the diner Joyce and the boys are home, and the first thing El does once they’re through the door is make her way directly to Joyce and hug her tightly. His wife’s eyes widened in surprise but she immediately gripped the girl back, rubbing her back before kissing her temple, meeting Hopper’s gaze across the room. He nods, smiling a little, and her lips curl upwards slightly before El pulls back and murmurs something that looks a lot like _“I’m sorry”_. Joyce strokes her hair, shoulders softening, and pulls her into another hug.

The three of them end up on the couch after Will heads to Dustin’s and Jonathan goes to pick up Nancy for a date, El still holding Joyce’s hand. Hopper drapes an arm over the back of the sofa, allowing Joyce to rest her head against it, and El settles between them comfortably as she flicks on the television.

“If the baby’s a girl, will she sleep in my room?” El asks during a commercial, and Joyce looks at her, eyebrows lifting in amusement.

“No, the baby will have a nursery. But it will be next to your room,” she answers, and El nods, happy with the answer. “Are you…excited, to be a big sister?”

A smile lights up El’s face, and she nods.

“Yes,” she replies definitively, and Joyce’s smiles softens as El snuggles into her side, head on her shoulder and arm slung around her waist. She looks over at Hopper, looking more at ease than she has all week, and he strokes his thumb over her hair, chest filled with contentment.

_

None of her clothes were comfortable anymore.

Baby Hopper had finally made themselves known to the world in the form of a prominent bump that was both unmistakable and unable to hide now. She’d made it through summer without much change other than a tiny bump no one other than Hopper saw when they were in bed together, and in early fall most of her baggy jeans had done the job of keeping the tiny bump that had formed hidden from view. But now, come October, she had a real, genuine baby bump that had seemed to pop overnight and no comfortable clothing to wear save for her husband’s sweatpants that were about three feet too long for her and not exactly suitable for work.

“I just won’t go to work today,” she sighs, sinking back down onto the bed and flopping onto the pillow, a hand against her belly and rubbing when she felt the tiny flutters that hadn’t quite blossomed into kicks yet.

“Wardrobe problems?” she looks up at her husband’s voice, and heaves a sigh before dropping her head back down on the covers.

“Nothing fits, or is comfortable, and I’m sweating my ass off in god damn _October_ ,” she moans, and the bed shifts as Hopper sinks down next to her, his palm coming to rest on the crest of her belly. “Being pregnant is harder than I remember, Hop.”

“How can I help?” he asks, voice soft, and Joyce shifts, curling into him until she can fit her head into his shoulder, Hopper curling his arm around her as her belly presses against his side.

“Just lay with me, for a minute?” she asks, voice muffled by his uniform. She feels him kiss her hair, and lets out a sigh, fingers lifting up to stroke over his beard. “I guess I have to suck it up and go maternity shopping, huh?”

“You could take El. She’d love that,” Hopper suggested, and Joyce’s lips quirked upwards.

“Max could come too. Make a day of it,” she murmurs, and Hop grunts in support. “Am I making you late?”

“Station’ll survive without me,” is all he says, and Joyce huffs out a laugh, snuggling closer.

_

“Hey, sweetie. Going to Mike’s?” she asks Will, looking up from the bills she’s sorting through at the kitchen table with a smile. Her youngest son shakes his head, plopping down in the chair beside her.

“I still don’t have a Halloween costume,” he says, and Joyce sets her pen down. “Do you think we could go shopping?”

Joyce beams, nodding.

“Of course we can, sweetie. Why don’t we go to Elmdale, see what they have? We can go to that diner you like after,” she suggests, and Will’s whole face lights up as he nods. “Let me just let Hop know where we’re going, go put your shoes on.”

She heaves herself out of her seat, and heads for the phone- she keys in the station’s number, and chats with Flo until Hopper’s ready for her.

“Everything alright?” he asks once he picks up, his go-to question whenever she phoned unexpectedly.

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know I’m taking Will to Elmdale to pick out a Halloween costume,” she answers.

“That’s good. I know you’ve been missin’ time with him,” her husband replies, and Joyce hums, a hand stroking over the side of her belly as the baby gave a flurry of soft kicks, as per usual whenever Hopper spoke. “It’s a light day, I’ll be home on time tonight for El. Jon with Nancy?”

“He should be, this is their only time together until he’s back for winter break, I’ll leave a note just in case,” Joyce tells him, then lets out a soft laugh at the movement within her. “This baby definitely knows who their daddy is, they have not stayed still this entire phone call.”

“Sara was the same way,” Hopper says softly after a moment, and Joyce’s shoulders softened, pressing the phone harder to her ear. “Have fun with Will, baby.”

“I will. See you at home later,” she says, voice quiet. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmurs back, low and rumbling and sweeping like a storm cloud. She lowers the phone back onto the hook and swallows hard, resting both hands against the swell of her belly momentarily before she goes to meet Will by the door, dropping a kiss to the top of his head before she grabs her purse and keys.

Will fiddles with the radio in the car, finally settling on a rock station Hopper tended to favor, and bringing a smile to Joyce’s face. He settles back in his seat happily before glancing over at her.

“What are you going to be for Halloween, Mom?” he asks, and Joyce lifts an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’m already so uncomfortable as it is, sweetie. I don’t think a costume will help anything,” she answers. “And Hop will be at work all night anyway, I’ll just be at home.”

“But you could do something funny! Mike said when his mom was pregnant with Holly she dressed up like a pumpkin!” Will insists, and Joyce crinkles her nose.

“A pumpkin?” she asks, and Will nods. “I look terrible in bright orange.”

Will rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat to face her.

“What about a ghost? You could just get a white shirt and we could paint eyes on it!” he suggests, and Joyce looks over at him after she parks the car in front of the costume store.

“I’ll consider it, alright?” she finally settles on, and Will laughs, nodding. Joyce pauses, a hand falling to her belly, and cocks her head.

“What? Mom, are you okay?” Will asks, leaning forward and furrowing his brow, and Joyce nods, reaching a hand out until she can find his.

“Can you feel that?” she asks, placing his hand under hers on the top of her belly. They both wait, and then Will looks at her, eyes wide.

“Is that the baby?!” he asks, and she nods, grinning. “That’s so _weird._ ”

“Yeah. It is,” she replies, nose scrunching up as she pulls her eyebrows together and makes a face. “But she hasn’t kicked strong enough for anyone else to feel yet until she heard you laugh.”

“Really?” Will whispers, smiling, and Joyce nods, stroking his hair back.

“She knows who her big brother is,” she tells him, and Will ducks his head.

“She? I’m getting another sister?” he asks, and Joyce shrugs.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling,” she answers. “Come on. Let’s go pick out a Halloween costume!”

A few hours and a Halloween costume later, they return home to find El and Jonathan playing Atari on the couch, teasing each other affectionately while Hopper sits in the arm chair, the newspaper open over his lap but his attention mostly on the kids.

“Go hang your costume up, sweetie, I don’t want it to wrinkle,” Joyce tells him, and Will heads towards his room as El tells him to hurry up so he can play with them. She toes off her shoes and hangs her coat before heading over to her husband, setting the paper on the coffee table before settling in his lap. Hop settles his arms around her, and Joyce takes one hand, placing it against her belly and waiting until there was a kick against it.

A smile slowly grows on Hopper’s face, and he turns to brush his lips over hers gently, nudging her nose with his.

“When’d that start?” he asks quietly, and Joyce smiles.

“Today. Will laughed, and boom- a kick,” she replies, stroking her free hand through his hair before settling it against his neck. El lets out a whoop behind them, clearly having won, and Joyce shifts so she’s facing the television, back bracketed against Hopper’s chest.

“Want to play, Mom?” Jonathan asks, and Joyce lets out an inelegant snort, shaking her head.

“I’ll leave that to you kids. I’ll just watch,” she answers, feeling Hopper rest his chin on her shoulder. “Did you guys eat enough? Are you hungry?”

“Dad made spaghetti!” El tells her, grinning. Joyce peers at him over her shoulder, and he shrugs modestly.

“Figured pizza wasn’t gonna cut it in your book,” he mutters, and Joyce rolls her eyes, but leans over to press her lips to his cheek.

“Well, I want something sweet. Do we have any ice cream left?” she hauls herself off Hopper’s lap, making a beeline for the fridge. Upon finding the freezer empty, she turns to her husband, pouting her lips out. He sighs, but stands, already on his way to the door.

“Chocolate again?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“Baby wants mint chocolate chip,” she tells him, and he huffs out a laugh, shoving his feet in his boots and grabbing his jacket.

“Got it. Anyone want anything else?” he asks, and El peeks her head over the sofa.

“Strawberry?” she asks, and he nods, face soft.

“You got it kid. Boys? Any requests?”

Will and Jonathan exchange a look, and then speak simultaneously.

“Chocolate.”

Joyce snorts, sinking into the now-empty armchair.

“And that’s why all I wanted through both of those pregnancies was anything chocolate.”

_

“Can I ask you a crazy question?”

Hopper looks up from the paper, setting it down when he sees the serious look on his wife’s face.

“Do you…” she trails off, fingers twisting together on the table before her as she seems to try to gather the courage to speak. “Do you think I’d make a good nurse?”

The question stuns him, and he blinks, caught off guard. Joyce bites her lip, waiting, and he clears his throat, shifting in his seat until he can sit forward.

“I think you’d make a fantastic nurse, sweetheart,” he answers, covering her hands in his and squeezing gently. “What’s on your mind, Joyce? Talk to me.”

She takes a breath, steadying herself.

“I’m tired- of temping. I can’t do the secretarial bullshit anymore. Nothing’s felt right since Melvald’s, and even that was something I got stuck in because I never went to college. I got pregnant and gave up on any idea of getting a degree,” she starts, and Hopper nods. “But I always thought I’d make a pretty good nurse. And there’s evening courses at Elmdale University, so if I wanted, I could start next fall. The baby would be almost nine months old, and I could start small- maybe only one or two classes.”

She’s rushing her words by the end of it, trying to get everything out before she loses her confidence, and Hopper squeezes her hands, trying to encourage her.

“Joyce,” he stops her, and she looks up at him, eyes wide and anxious. “Babe, if this is something you want to do, I absolutely think you should do it.”

That pulls a small smile onto her lips, before she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.

“It’s just so much money, and what if I screw it up? It’s been a long time since I was in school,” she drops her gaze again, and Hopper looks at her for a moment before he speaks.

“I got an offer, for a few acres of my granddad’s land out by the highway,” he tells her, and Joyce looks up at him, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s a pretty good price for land we’ll never use anyway. And this is something you want- somethin’ you _need_.”

“Hop…I can’t ask you to do that,” Joyce shakes her head, and he shrugs.

“’S why I’m not asking. I know you hate the temping, and you were always too good for that store,” he tells her, and Joyce gives him a soft look, some of the anxiety leaching out of her shoulders. “You’re an incredible person, Joyce Hopper. I know if you set your mind to something, you’ll accomplish it, no problem. I believe in you.”

At that, Joyce lifts herself out of her seat, rounding the table until she can situate herself in his lap, hands on his face as she drops her lips onto his.

“I love you,” she gasps out when they finally part, breathless. Hopper lifts a hand to stroke her cheek, letting her rest her head against his as her eyes closed, their breathing slowing together naturally.

“You’re gonna make a great nurse, babe,” he tells her, and Joyce blows a breath out her nose.

“I can’t even apply for almost a year,” she reminds him, and he scoffs.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not right.”

_

With November comes cold nights and difficulty sleeping for Joyce as her belly continues to grow. Sleeping on her back had become impossible mid-September, and even sleeping on her side was hard, as the baby tended to kick almost incessantly after midnight.

“This kid will not let me sleep,” Joyce grumbles, shifting in bed and wincing slightly, rubbing a hand against the side of her belly. Hopper presses against her back, his arm wrapping around her as his larger hand covered hers, thumb stroking over her knuckles.

“Let Mom sleep, kiddo. It’s still dark outside. Hibernatin’ time,” he murmurs, palm spreading out so it covers half of her bump. The relentless movement within her calms, finally, and Joyce heaves out a breath of relief, shifting more comfortably against her husband and shutting her eyes once more.

When she wakes up next, the sun is just peeking up over the horizon, and Hopper’s side of the bed is cool to the touch. She stretches, eliciting movement in her belly, and she sighs, rubbing at it.

“Good morning to you too, sweetheart,” she murmurs, letting out a yawn. A glance out the window tells her it snowed overnight, and quite significantly at that, so she’s only partially surprised to find both El and Will huddled together on the couch watching cartoons with cereal in their laps.

“Morning Mom,” Will mumbles around a mouthful of Cheerios, and El mutters the sentiment back with half-open eyes, spoon halfway to her mouth. Joyce drops a kiss to both of their heads on her way to the kitchen, where Hopper is nursing a cup of coffee with the phone to his ear.

“School’s cancelled. Road’s are icy as shit, there’re already two accidents,” he tells her, accepting the kiss she presses to his mouth with a squeeze to her hip. “Tryin’ coordinate the plows from here until I can dig the driveway out.”

“I’d help, but your kid is already up and wreaking havoc on my organs,” Joyce informs him, and Hopper snorts, watching her pour a glass of orange juice. “I think they know they’re running out of room.”

It was true- she felt huge, bigger than she’d felt at this stage with either of the boys. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but knowing she had almost eight more weeks to go had her wary of how much more her body could swell, at this point. “I already look like a whale.”

Hopper beckons her over, and she sips her juice before she allows him to tug her into his side, dropping a kiss into her hair.

“Prettiest whale in all of Hawkins,” he tells her, and Joyce snorts, smacking at his chest. She leaves him to his phone call and settles between El and Will- they both snuggle into her, and she wraps both arms around them as they settle their heads on her chest. Before long they’re both back to sleep, and Joyce is close to dozing herself, warm and content.

She stirs when Hopper drops a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m heading in- driveway’s shoveled, but it’s snowin’ again. Call me if you need anything- I don’t want you out in this if you don’t have to be,” there’s a worried tone to his voice, vaguely overprotective, but Joyce nods. Hopper leans further over the back of the couch, kissing her mouth upside down this time before depositing kisses to each of the kids’ heads.

Joyce does fall asleep after that; when she wakes, Will and El are in the kitchen, talking quietly and giggling together. She yawns, scrubbing a hand down her face before shifting herself so she can see behind her, and finds the kids making themselves sandwiches.

“Did I nap that long?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow, and El lets out another laugh.

“We didn’t want to wake you up, but we’re hungry, and we didn’t want more cereal,” she replies, and Joyce smiles, resting her chin on her hand.

“Do you want one, Mom?” Will asks, and Joyce shakes her head.

“No thank you, baby. I think I’ll make myself some toast in a bit,” she answers, a bit of the mid-day nausea her third trimester had gifted her with rearing its head. “What shall we do with this unexpected day off?”

“The Princess Bride!” El exclaims enthusiastically, and Joyce smothers a laugh at Will’s groan.

“We watched that two days ago,” he complained.

“How about you pick a movie too, sweetheart? We can watch both,” she compromises, and her son heaves a sigh, but nods as both he and El bring their plates back over to the couch.

“We can watch your movie first, Will,” El offers, and Joyce watches with affection ballooning in her chest as Will grins, darting over to the shelf to rifle through their movie selection.

_

Joyce is putting groceries away when the front door opens- she frowns, glancing at her watch. It was still a little too early for Will or El to be home from school, and Hopper usually let her know if he was stopping by. She closes the fridge and straightens up with a groan, both hands pressing into her lower back as she turns towards the door.

“Jonathan!” she cries in delight, face creasing into a grin at the sight of her eldest. Her son dropped his bags by the door, smiling at her as he allowed her to pull him into as tight a hug as her belly allowed. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until this weekend!”

“My last final was today, figured I’d head back early- surprise you guys,” he says, and Joyce can’t help the way she tears up, so happy to know she’d have her whole family under her roof once again. “Didn’t mean to make you cry, Mom.”

“Oh, everything makes me cry these days,” she tells him, swiping at the tears and touching his cheek, looking him up and down. “Have you been eating? You look thin. Let me make you something.”

“I’m fine, Mom, I promise. How are you feeling? Do you need to sit?” Jonathan asks, and Joyce rolls her eyes fondly.

“You sound like Hopper. I’m perfectly capable of putting the groceries away,” she tells him, and returns to doing just that. “Go put your things away and then come tell me everything! I want to hear about how all your finals went.”

Jonathan smiles and picks his things up, and when he returns to the kitchen Joyce has a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk ready for him. He sits down while shaking his head, but eats while he tells Joyce a story about his roommate while she starts slicing apples for Will and El to have after school.

“How’s everything going here? Will and El doing okay at school?” he asked, and Joyce nodded, popping an apple slice into her mouth.

“Will’s really liking Chemistry, and El is surprisingly taken with Roman history,” Joyce informs him, and Jonathan lifts an eyebrow, impressed. “Will joined the debate team too! Max is on it with him.”

Jonathan snorts.

“That’s unsurprising. He had any real debates yet?”

“Not until the new year. You should be able to come to the first one!” Joyce says, and Jonathan’s smile is warm and proud. Joyce smiles back, then presses a hand to her side, giving a soft little gasp.

“Mom? You okay?” concern shades Jonathan’s voice, and she nods, beckoning him over.

“Your little sibling’s just letting us know they’re there. Do you want to feel?” she asks him, and after a brief hesitation he nods, allowing her to manipulate his hand to the spot where the kicking was most intense.

“Whoa. This one’s gonna be a soccer player for sure,” he says, letting out a laugh, and Joyce beams. “Were we like this?”

“Both of you were only like this very early in the morning,” Joyce tells him, moving his hand when the kicks move. “And whenever I drank orange juice. You especially. Orange juice made you dance for hours.”

Jonathan smiles at that, and Joyce reaches up to stroke his cheek before she cups it in her palm.

“You know I love you so much, right?” she tells him, and Jonathan’s eyebrows knit together as he nods.

“Of course I do, Mom,” he answers, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder. “I love you too.”

Joyce’s lower lip trembles, and she pulls him into another hug, overwhelmed by how much love she had floating around in her body.

“Jonathan!” El’s excited voice precedes the door slamming shut, and Jonathan steps away just before he’s attacked by both El and Will, the two of them wrapping themselves around him in tight bear hugs.

Joyce watches as the younger ones pull Jonathan away, full of questions about college, and goes to finish fixing a snack for them. El and Will are both listening to Jonathan, wide eyed and open mouthed, when she places the plate on the table, and she winks at Jonathan before she leaves them alone.

Hopper wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, and while she really should start a load of laundry, the thought of going up and down the stairs is just too exhausting. Instead, she figured she’d earned a few minutes of laying down time- she collapses in bed, curling up with her nose in her husband’s pillow.

She falls asleep knowing she had her whole family back together for the next few weeks, lips curled into a smile.

_

Joyce is chopping vegetables for soup when El walks up to the counter, settling herself on one of the stools. Joyce raises an eyebrow, questioning, but simply continues chopping until the teenager is ready to speak.

“Do you want me to call you Mom?” she finally asks, words coming out in a rush as her eyebrows crease together into a line. Her face flattens out once she finishes speaking, and Joyce blinks, taking in the question as she sets down the knife, wiping her hands on the dish towel she has over her shoulder.

“Why don’t we sit down on the couch and talk about this, sweetheart? I can’t sit on these stools very long anymore,” Joyce tells her, guiding El onto the couch and sinking down slowly, a hand on her belly as El hovers worried next to her, as all the kids were prone to these days. “I’m fine. Take a seat, El.”

Joyce pats the cushion next to her, and El sits cautiously until Joyce tugs at her, and their knees brush as El settles into her side.

“What prompted that question, honey?”

El looks at her fingers, twisted together in her lap, and Joyce strokes her hair gently, allowing her time to find her words.

“I’m…the only one who doesn’t call you Mom,” she says quietly, looking up at Joyce. “I’ll _be_ the only one that doesn’t call you Mom, when the baby comes.”

“Hopper doesn’t call me Mom,” she replies, and El gives her a look, to which Joyce concedes her point. “Alright, alright, point taken.”

“I had a mama. But she’s gone,” El continues, and Joyce frowns, touching her cheek gently with her fingertips. “I have you now.”

Joyce gives her a trembling smile, and nods. “Always,” she whispers, and El beams.

“So I was…wondering. If you wanted me to call you Mom,” she repeats, and Joyce can’t help the tears that spring to her eyes. El frowns at the sight of them, leaning closer. “I don’t have to. I can keep calling you Joyce.”

“Oh- oh, honey, these aren’t sad tears. They’re happy tears. The baby- sometimes the hormones make me cry more than usual,” Joyce reassures her quickly, lifting a hand to swipe away the drops from her cheeks. El’s fingers are softer as she lifts her own hands to help, a hesitant smile crossing her face.

“So…I can? Call you Mom?” she asks, and Joyce nods, cupping El’s cheeks in her palms.

“You can call me whatever you’d like, sweetheart. But I’d love it if you called me Mom,” she answers, and El’s answering grin is absolutely blinding before she throws herself into Joyce’s arms, squeezing her neck tightly. Joyce laughs, holding her tightly against her and savoring the embrace. El startles when the baby gives a kick she can feel, pulling back slightly and looking at Joyce in alarm.

“Was that the baby? Are you okay?” she asks, and Joyce nods, pushing El’s hair out of her face tenderly.

“They’re just letting us know they’re in there. They want to join the party,” Joyce tells her, and El tilts her head curiously. “Do you want to feel them again? This is usually when they’re the most active.”

El nods, and Joyce takes her hand, guiding it to the crest of her belly as she sits back slightly on the couch. It takes a moment, but the baby gives a sharp kick, and El laughs loudly, looking at Joyce.

“Does it feel weird?” she asks, and Joyce nods, nose crinkling.

“This baby kicks a lot more than either of the boys did,” she answers, and then leans closer, whispering conspiratorially. “That’s why I think it’s a girl.”

El’s eyes widen in delight.

“A sister?” she asks, and Joyce nods, softening.

“I think so. But don’t tell Dad, okay? Our secret,” she says, and El nods. “Want to help me finish dinner? You can chop the carrots.”

El nods, standing, and Joyce lifts her hands.

“Okay. Help Mom off the couch, please.”

El laughs, but grabs her hands and helps pull her up; once she’s on her feet, Joyce pulls El into a hug, and kisses the top of her head before they pull apart, heading to the kitchen counter. Joyce shows El how to properly chop the carrots, and that’s how Hopper finds them half an hour later, stirring the successfully chopped vegetables and chicken in the warming broth.

“Smells good in here,” he says, and El beams.

“I helped Mom,” she tells him, and he lifts an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “Can I call Mike while dinner finishes?”

Joyce nods, and she scampers off, tapping Hopper’s arm happily on her way by. He looks at Joyce, eyebrow still raised, and she leans back against the counter, shrugging as she folds her arms over her belly.

“Mom?” he mouths, and she nods, face crinkling into a small grin. He moves closer to her, palms sliding around her upper arms as he bends to kiss her softly before pulling back. “There’s a story there.”

Joyce nods, patting his chest.

“I’ll tell you later. Watch the stove, your kid is making me have to pee about a million times a day,” she uses him for leverage to push off the counter as he lets out a chuckle, and then makes her way down the hall.

When she comes back, Will is back from Mike’s, setting the table and talking to Hopper about something D&D related. Joyce could tell her husband had absolutely no idea what Will was saying, but he was following along as best he could, occasionally asking questions in an attempt to understand, and allowing Will to ramble to his heart’s content. She watches with a smile, leaning against the doorway until El comes up behind her, resting her chin on her shoulder. Joyce rests her cheek against El’s, lacing their fingers together when the teenager wrapped her arm around her.

They all turn at the sound of the door opening, and Jonathan appears, Nancy close behind.

“Sorry we’re late, it’s a damn blizzard out there,” Jonathan says, and Joyce frowns, looking at Hopper across the room.

“We got everything we need if we’re snowed in,” he assures her, and she nods, a worried hand falling to the curve of her belly where the baby was suddenly active and awake. El hugs her a little tighter, protectively, and Joyce squeezes her hand. “Jonathan, why don’t you help me get some more wood out of the shed to dry off, just to be safe.”

Jonathan nods, following Hopper out the back door, and Joyce ushers Nancy further inside, touching her shoulders affectionately.

“I hope you don’t mind me staying tonight, Mrs. By- Hopper,” Nancy started, and Joyce cut her off, waving a hand.

“First of all, it’s Joyce, Nancy, and second, there’s no way we’d send you back out into that storm, as though you don’t spend half your nights here anyway,” she hits her with a pointed look, and Nancy blushes, ducking her head briefly. The boys come back inside, shoulders and hair dusted with thick white flakes, a few thick pieces of lumber in each of their arms.

Hopper sets about getting a bigger fire going in the fireplace while Joyce and Nancy spoon the soup into bowls and pass them around the table. Will and El huddle up together, already chilled, and Joyce shrugs into one of Hopper’s abandoned flannels over her thick thermal shirt at the cold, scrunching her nose slightly.

By the time the food’s laid out, the fire is roaring, and the house feels marginally warmer- though Joyce doesn’t complain when Hopper wraps an arm around her and tugs her closer once they’re seated, his body temperature nearly blazing beside her as they eat. She picks at her food, not truly hungry; Hopper looks at her when she grimaces, placing both hands on the curve of her belly and waiting until the ache passed.

“What’s up?” he asks quietly, keeping his voice low as the kids chatter amongst themselves, and Joyce settles further into his side, shaking her head.

“Just running out of room. There’s only so much real estate in there, you know,” she reminds him, and that at least tugs a grin onto his face as the hand at her waist shifts, pressing to the underside of her belly. “And we’re getting to the end, sweetheart. Only a couple more weeks.”

“I know. That crib is practically calling my name,” he jerks his head down the hall, and several heads shoot up.

“We can help,” comes out in a chorus of voices, and Joyce can’t help but soften, head sinking onto her husband’s shoulder. Hopper’s fingers curl with hers and she squeezes, contentment filling her.

“I guess I could use some help, now that you mention it,” he replies easily, and Joyce leans up to kiss his cheek.

“But first, dishes please!” she says, and there are grumbles, but all the dishes are collected before she even has a chance to attempt to push herself to her feet.

“Allow me,” Hopper carefully takes her hands, helping her up gently and guiding her to the sofa, situating her with her feet propped up and a pillow behind her back for support. He hands her the remote, and she lifts an eyebrow. “You, relax. We’ll work on the nursery for a bit.”

“Well that sounds ominous, Hop,” she replies, but shakes her head fondly, and beckons with her fingers. He lowers himself to her level and she plucks at his collar before she pulls him into a kiss, licking his bottom lip and then nipping gently. “There might even be a reward in it for you at the end of the night.”

“God do I love you,” he murmurs against her mouth, kissing her again and brushing his tongue against hers, body bracketing hers against the back of the couch as she hummed, palms cupping his cheeks before moving up to twine in his hair briefly.

“Gross, isn’t one baby enough?” Jonathan’s teasing voice filters across the room, and they pull apart, slightly breathless. Joyce blushes, while Hopper puffs his chest out a little in masculine pride. Joyce smacks at him, nudging him towards the stairs.

“Go build our child a crib, you big bear,” she winks as she says it, clicking the television on, and Hopper’s eyes darken ever so slightly as they meet hers before he heads down the hall, a trail of children following him.

Joyce flicks through the channels while she thinks about all the decorating she still has yet to do; they’ve been lax this year, time seeming to fly as they prepared for the baby, and it’s hard to believe the holiday was less than two weeks away.

She watches the news for a bit, listening to the talk about the worsening storm, and is glad that her whole family is together and under the same roof. She shifts, unable to stay comfortable, and rubs at her right hipbone, frowning. Everything just sort of _aches_ , these days- this pregnancy sat lower on her hips than either of the boys had, and she already knew she’d gained more weight than with either of the boys. A combination of an actively attentive husband who made sure she ate and took her vitamins this time around along with being older, that she knew, and a concession she was happy to make if it meant her baby was healthy.

She settles on one of the various Christmas movies littering the channels when the news ends, and tries to find a comfortable position around the ebbing ache in her back, wincing at the jab her kidney receives in response.

“Gentle, sweetheart. Mama’s tender today,” she soothes her belly, and wraps another blanket around herself as she shivers. Laughter rings out from down the hall, and her lips curl into a smile as tiredness tugs on her eyes. She allows them to sink shut with a sigh, figuring a nap wouldn’t hurt. Maybe she’d wake up to a completed crib.

_

The nursery doesn’t look half bad, if he does say so himself.

Having the kids’ help had lessened the load, even he can admit that. The crib had come together easily, while the changing table had taken a little more time. But two hours later everything was assembled, and awaiting Joyce’s approval on positioning.

“Alright team, good job,” Hopper said, and the kids all gave tired smiles and thumbs up in response. “Let’s go see how Mom likes it, yeah?”

El is the first one up, offering her hands to Will. Jonathan helps Nancy to her feet, and they all troop down the hall to the living room.

“Shh. Mom’s sleeping,” El whispered, and Hopper softened at the sight of Joyce, sprawled in what he assumed was the most comfortable position she could get, sound asleep with the television flickering softly.

“Alright kids, get ready for bed,” Hopper ordered quietly, waiting until they’d all filtered down the hall until he crouched down near Joyce’s face, stroking her hair off her cheek. Her nose crinkled, face shifting slightly before she yawned. “Hey, sweetheart. I know you don’t want to sleep on this couch.”

“I only meant to close my eyes for a minute,” she tells him, scrunching her eyebrows together, and his lips twitch affectionately, unable to hold the fondness off of his face.

“Feel like heading to bed?” he asks, and a curious expression crosses his wife’s face before she blinks up at him.

“We might as well,” she answers, and Hopper frowns. “I think this baby might be coming tonight, Hop.”

He freezes at that, every muscle in his body tensing at her statement. His brain immediately starts going a mile a minute- the roads would be ridiculous, and there was no way they’d make it safely to a hospital. Did they even have the supplies to have a baby here? Were the phone lines working? Could he call anyone? How-

He’s pulled from his thoughts by tender hands on his cheeks, and Joyce’s face is soft when it comes into focus.

“Jim, sweetheart- calm down. Focus on my voice,” she’s saying, and he swallows hard, realigning his thoughts. “We have time. Labor takes a long time, and my water hasn’t broken. But I remember what back labor feels like, and I’m definitely having contractions. We’ll have to start timing them, but they’re pretty far apart still.”

Something in his face must tell her he’s still panicking, because she offers him a small smile, and pats his cheek.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey. I promise,” she tells him, scooting closer and nuzzling her nose against his, hands cupping his ears gently. “I’ve done this before, remember?”

He chokes out a laugh at that, and Joyce presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Help me up to bed, okay? We should try to sleep a bit while we can. Maybe the roads will be better when it’s light out,” he nods automatically, and helps her to her feet. He waits, watching as his wife closes her eyes, swaying in place slightly until she takes a breath, and lifts tired eyes to his. “C’mon. Bed.”

“You know, when I said we had everything for a storm, I didn’t mean have our kid in the house,” he murmurs as they head down the hall and Joyce snorts, squeezing his bicep.

In their bedroom, Hopper helps Joyce into a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms, rolling the waistband in an attempt to shorten them, and then into bed, pulling an extra blanket from the hall to unfold over the bed.

“The kids?” she asks as she snuggles under the covers, and as if summoned, Will and El peek their heads around the doorframe.

“Everything okay, Mom?” Will asks, and Joyce nods, patting the bed next to her. They both settle next to her, and she takes both their hands.

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart. I promise. But there’s a pretty good chance the baby is coming sometime tomorrow,” she tells them, and both sets of eyes widen. “It’s still snowing, and I don’t know if the roads will be clear when the sun comes up, so I’m gonna need you both to be really brave for me, okay? Dad’s going to need a lot of help.”

Joyce offers Hopper a wink at that, and he softens, a hand stroking over El’s hair.

“Will you and the baby be okay? If you have her here?” El asks, face pinched in concern, and Joyce is quick to touch her face in reassurance.

“We’ll be fine, honey. We have all of you here with us,” Joyce tells her, and that seems to relieve some of the teenager’s worry. “Go get some sleep for me, okay? We’ll let you know if anything is happening.”

“Okay, Mom. Love you,” Will says, leaning forward until he can kiss her cheek- El does the same, murmuring Will’s words in an echo, and then they both leave the room. Hopper watches them both disappear into Will’s room, and presses a kiss to Joyce’s head before standing.

“I’m gonna fill Jon and Nancy in, and check on the fire,” he tells her, and she nods tiredly before sinking down into the bed, curling around his pillow. He watches her for a minute, heart so full it feels like it could just drop out of his chest, before he closes the door save for a few inches and then heads down the hall to Jonathan’s room. He knocks, waiting for the soft “Come in” before he opens.

Jonathan and Nancy are curled up on his bed, a record playing softly in the background and a magazine between them. They both look up when he walks in, and Jonathan sits up.

“Hey, Hop,” he says, and Hopper offers a small, tired smile.

“So, Joyce’s pretty sure she’s in labor,” he tells them, and they nearly fly off the bed. He holds up both his hands, calming them. “She says it’s early, and there’s still plenty of time. But there’s still lots of snow falling, and I don’t know if we’ll even be able to see the road in the morning. And quite frankly, I’d rather her be safe in this warm house than out in a cold Blazer should we get stuck.”

Both of them nod, and Hopper scrubs a hand down his face.

“I need you to help me get all the clean towels we’ve got, and some spare bowls for hot water. We have diapers and formula and shit from the shower, thank god, so we don’t have to go out for anything like that,” he tells them, and Nancy nods, standing fluidly.

“I’ll get a station started in the kitchen. There are two kettles which will help with hot water,” she says, and Hopper nods.

“Don’t start anything just yet- you can set it up, but try and sleep a little. We’ll let you know when the action starts,” he tells them, and Nancy nods before slipping out of the room. Jonathan stands, and touches Hopper’s shoulder carefully.

“She’s gonna be okay, Hop,” he says, and there’s so much sincerity in the kid’s voice it nearly bowls Hopper over. “I know you’re scared. But we’ll help however you need us to. You just focus on Mom and the kid, okay?”

Hopper nods, and claps Jonathan’s shoulder before pulling the younger man into a rare hug. Jonathan returns it, and Hopper feels a little bit of worry lift from his shoulders.

“Thanks, kid,” Hopper murmurs, and he knows Jonathan’s next words only come because his face is out of view.

“Of course. Dad.”

Hopper hides his own smile, and pats Jonathan’s back once more before he pulls away.

“Get some sleep,” he reiterates, and Jonathan nods as Hopper leaves the room once more. He peeks in Will’s room- El and Will are curled up together, an abandoned comic book open between them as they whisper urgently. “What’s with the brainstorm session going on in here?”

“My room’s cold,” El explains, and Hopper lifts an eyebrow. “And…I’m worried about Mom and the baby.”

Hopper moves further into the room and kneels by the bed, resting his elbows on the comforter as he studies the two of them.

“You know I’d never let anything happen to your mom, right?” he asks, and they both nod vigorously. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to her, or the baby. Everything is going to be fine. Plus, you guys know Mom. She’s a fighter.”

El smiles at that.

“She kicks ass,” she lets out a soft giggle, and Hopper smirks, stroking a hand over her hair.

“Yeah she does. Don’t let her hear you say that though,” he lifts an eyebrow, and El rolls her eyes. “So try not to worry, and get a little rest, okay? She’s gonna need you guys at the top of your game tomorrow.”

“Okay,” they chirp, snuggling under the covers when Hopper pulls them up to their chins. He bends, kissing first El’s head and then Will’s before shutting off the light on his way out. He can hear Jonathan and Nancy in the kitchen, but he’s suddenly exhausted- the stress of everything weighing so heavily that all he wants is to curl up with Joyce and sleep until their lives turned upside down.

Joyce has kicked off the covers when he returns to their room, her body temperature clearly rising- Hopper tugs his shirt over his head, and climbs into bed beside her. She shifts restlessly, and Hopper places a soothing hand against her belly.

They finally find a settled position with Joyce’s back against his chest, skin radiating heat where it touches his. Hopper could feel the odd movements of her belly against his hand, and along her back- the rippling movements that meant their child was making its way into the world. It’s an odd, surreal feeling- it’s been nearly two decades since Sara had been born, and El had simply walked into his life, owning his heart easily. And this child was already so loved- already so wanted, and cherished- that as soon as they arrived, they had an entire family ready to protect them at the drop of a hat.

That thought propels him to sleep, and he buries his face in Joyce’s hair as he closes his eyes.

_

There’s so much blood.

It’s all he can see, and smell, and it’s overwhelming- red and thick and coating everything; his hands and shirt and his pants. His mouth tastes like pennies, and it’s like he’s trudging through sludge- everything is thick and hazy and incoherent.

_Your wife didn’t make it._

The words sound like soup, barely permeating his brain. It isn’t possible. It can’t be.

_Complications. Bleeding. Rupture. Delivery._

He can’t even focus on their child when there’s a doctor telling him his wife is dead, her blood on his hands and his clothes and dripping on the floor. _Drip, drip, drip._

_Joyce._

“Hopper.”

It’s her voice, but that’s impossible- she’s…

“Jim, honey, wake up,” his eyes finally pop open at the forceful shove at his shoulder, and he gasps, sitting up straight. It takes him a minute to process the darkened room, his heart racing in his chest, but when he looks down next to him, Joyce is there and whole and fine, hair tied out of her face and off of her neck in a messy bun.

“You’re okay?” he asks, cupping her neck and jaw in his hand, and she’s quick to nod, assuring him.

“We’re fine,” she takes his other hand and places it against her belly, and the fear finally tempers inside him as he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he rests his head against hers. “You started yelling. It seemed bad, Hop.”

“Just…just a nightmare,” he tells her, pulling back and stroking his hands over her skin, frowning at how hot she was. “How do you feel? What time is it?”

“It’s a little after two. They’re definitely closer. About ten minutes apart,” she answers, and shifts uncomfortably. “She’s definitely coming today, Hop.”

Hopper nods, tucking her hair back behind her ear, and bending forward to kiss her. “Let’s get you into some dry clothes, okay?”

Joyce ends up in a pair of his cotton boxers and a thin t-shirt, and Hopper digs the fan out of their closet, setting it up in the corner to help start to cool the room down. She starts to pace, a restlessness overtaking her as the sun starts to peak out over the horizon.

Around four, the contractions become more intense, and both Jonathan and Nancy wake up. They move to the living room, the bedroom becoming too cramped and hot.

Nancy and Hopper spread clean sheets on the floor, making a makeshift bed area, stacks of towels off to the side. Nancy starts the process of boiling water, and Jonathan walks with Joyce, talking her through some of the rougher contractions and letting her grip his hands tightly. Hopper calls the hospital- the roads are icy messes, not to mention the fact that their driveway is under at least twelve inches of snow and the Blazer absolutely buried, and there’s no one getting to them anytime soon. They’d send an ambulance as soon as it was safe, they assured him, but he already knew that would be well after Joyce had given birth.

Around six, Joyce’s water breaks in a clear gush against the hardwood of the kitchen floor, and the contractions get closer together and harsher. Nancy helps her change into a clean nightgown, readjusting her ponytail so the sweat-damp hair was off of her neck, and Joyce thanks her, exhaustion already set in her face.

Any semblance of quiet his wife had had before is gone as she rocks with each new contraction, now less than five minutes apart and moving from her back to her belly. El and Will wake up, and set to work straight away- they set up the diaper station, and El picks out an outfit for her younger sibling, setting it aside gently. Joyce strokes her hair tenderly, beaming at the excitement from the youngest of the bunch in regards to the baby.

“I’m not doing this again,” she grits out at one point some time later, holding Hopper’s hands so tightly her knuckles are white. She rocks in place, the round ball of her belly sitting lower on her hips than he remembers from yesterday, and logically he knows that means they’re getting closer. He snorts, burying a kiss in her hair.

“Last one, babe. Promise,” he whispers back, and she huffs, bending her knees and groaning. “You’re doing great, Joyce.”

She hums, rocking against him and closing her eyes, trusting him with her weight as another contraction wracked through her body.

“I think- I think I need to sit,” she finally says somewhere around nine, her knees weak and throat hoarse. The contractions are less than two minutes apart, and when Hopper had checked her progress around 8, his amateur estimate had been that she’d been nearly fully dilated.

Hopper and Jonathan help her onto the blankets, her back against the couch. El helps her redo her hair again when the ponytail slips out while Nancy covers her with a thin sheet, and Hopper helps her take a few sips of water, though it’s hard for her to take more than a mouthful. Will presses a cool cloth to the back of her neck, and Joyce offers a tired smile to the group of them.

“My heroes,” she murmurs, squeezing Jonathan and Hopper’s hands tightly as another contraction hits, a cry building in her throat. “I think it’s time to push, honey.”

Hopper transfers Joyce’s hand to Nancy, and situates himself between Joyce’s legs, adjusting the sheet slightly. Both Will and El stay back behind Joyce’s head per instruction, offering encouragement when needed, and the long process of pushing begins. It continually amazes him, what a trooper his wife was- how strong and incredible and amazing a woman he’d married, bringing their child into the world as snow continued to fall lightly outside, glinting out the window.

Less than an hour later their daughter is born, screaming bloody murder. She seems so tiny compared to his hands, and Hopper gently wipes her face and nose and beautifully crying mouth before wrapping her in a blanket and placing her in Joyce’s arms. His wife looks up at him, cheeks damp with tears and sweat but face lit with joy, and there’s so much love in his body he feels like he just might combust on the spot.

Using the sterilized clips and scissors, he carefully cuts the cord connecting mother and daughter, and Nancy helps him cover Joyce in a clean blanket once he’s sure there’s no extraneous bleeding and she isn’t in extreme pain.

Settled in Joyce’s arms, their daughter is finally quiet and content, face burrowed in her chest and skin pink and healthy. She’s the most beautiful thing Hopper’s ever laid eyes on, just like Sara was, and the thought doesn’t sting like he thought it might. Instead, he’s filled with such immense, overwhelming joy he feels tears prick his eyes, and he strokes one finger down the infant’s arm.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, and Joyce nods, looking up at him with a damp, beaming grin.

“She’s beautiful,” she whispers back, voice thick with tears, and he bends forward, kissing her deeply.

“I love you,” he tells her, and Joyce lifts one hand to touch his face, stroking his beard lightly as she smiles.

“I know. Love you too,” she replies, and he kisses her once more before leaving a kiss on the baby’s head and standing, starting to clean up.

The hospital had told him some of the standard procedure when it came to disposing of medical waste- mostly he just triple bagged everything and left it out in the snow for the ambulance to deal with whenever they got there. Nancy helped with the dishes, nudging Hopper occasionally and grinning, and he couldn’t help but grin back, happiness filling every little space in his body.

El and Will settle with Joyce on the floor, Jonathan not far away, and she introduces them to their baby sister. El coos, already in love with the infant; while the boys are less vocal about their interest, they were still content to look at her with soft eyes and warm smiles.

They move Joyce from her nest on the floor to the couch, nestling her in blankets and sheets and a loose pair of Hopper’s pajama pants after Nancy helps her into the bathroom to clean up as best she can while only leaving the baby for a few moments, nestled carefully in her big sister’s arms. The baby remains swaddled in blankets, sleeping contented in her mother’s arms until she’s hungry about half an hour later- the kids take that as their cue to all head into the kitchen for breakfast that Jonathan offers to make as Joyce sets herself up to feed the infant, murmuring quietly to the little girl.

Hopper settles beside her, watching silently as their daughter eats, Joyce tracing her tiny face with her fingertips. She looks up when she feels him staring, tilting her head slightly in question. “What?”

He shakes his head, watching her carefully adjust the baby to gently tap her back once she’s finished, pulling her shirt back down. “I just never…thought I’d have this again. That we’d _ever_ have this together. She’s…she’s this perfect little person we made. After all this time.”

Joyce’s smile softens at that, and she shifts closer, carefully placing their daughter into his arms for the first time. Hopper’s breath catches as the infant settles into the cradle his body naturally offers, her heartbeat against his arm and her breath warm even through his shirt. Joyce rests her cheek against his bicep, her hand under his beneath their daughter’s body.

“Well, we got it,” she reminds him, smiling. “This perfect little girl is all ours, forever. All she needs is a name.”

Hopper looks down at the tiny little thing in his arms, aware that the curve of her nose is familiar because he sees it in the mirror every day, but it’s softened by all the Joyce he sees in his daughter’s tiny features. The little girl yawns, mouth stretching wide as she shifts, and he feels his heart swell with love and affection and protectiveness.

“Whatever you want, Joy,” he says, looking up at her, and his wife’s eyes narrow slightly. “She’s here, and she’s perfect, and- and you did that.”

Joyce’s smile is soft, and she leans up to kiss him gently. Her gaze falls back to the baby in his arms, studying their daughter.

“I always liked the name Jessica,” she murmurs after a moment, lips curling up into a small smile. “A little Jessie.”

Hopper regards the infant, shifting her so she’s cradled in both his hands.

“Jessica. Jessie. I like it,” he says, and Joyce hums.

“I hope you like the middle name just as much, because it’s nonnegotiable,” she replies, and he looks at his wife, lifting an eyebrow. “I want her middle name to be James.”

Hopper’s lips part, and Joyce shakes her head, cutting off whatever he starts to say.

“I wanted our child to have your name, no matter what. If she’d been a boy, I would have wanted her middle name to be James. Why should that change?” she continues, and Hopper looks down at their baby, stretching in his hands, the blanket slipping down slightly as her tiny fists lift to the ceiling.

“Jessica James Hopper,” he whispers, and Joyce beams, pressing her smile to his bicep.

“Jessica James Hopper,” she repeats, stroking her fingers over Jessica’s head. Hopper doesn’t even realize there are tears on his cheeks until her fingers are tender against his skin, brushing away the hot drops. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“First memory she’s gonna have is her old man cryin’,” he grumbles, and Joyce lets out a soft laugh. Jessica grunts, and Hopper shifts her back to her mother’s arms where she calms nearly instantly, falling back to sleep not long before Joyce does.

Around two the ambulance finally arrives, along with Callahan in the squad car.

“Hey, Chief. I guess congrats are in order,” he says, clapping his shoulder, and Hopper gives a tired, contented smile. The younger officer had brought along the official birth certificate paper work so they wouldn’t have to make another trip into town, and Hopper watches as he carefully tucks the now-signed documents into his jacket pocket. “I’ll tell the team not to expect you for a coupla days.”

“I’ve got some time stored up I plan to use. You’ll be fine,” Hopper tells the younger man, eyes not leaving the paramedic examining Jessie in the center of the living room. Joyce leans against El, who was watching over both her mother and sister protectively, while Will and Jonathan sit close by, Nancy’s hands pressed to Jonathan’s shoulders. “Thanks for getting them here, Callahan.”

“Anything for you, Hopper,” Callahan says, and Hopper excuses himself when it looks like the paramedic was done.

“Your daughter looks perfect, Mrs. Hopper,” the young man says, bundling Jessica back up and placing her back in Joyce’s arms. “As long as you bring her to her pediatrician in the next few days for a follow up and her vaccinations, I don’t see any reason to bring you to the hospital. You’ll be sore for a few days, but there’s not much more we could do for you.”

Joyce snorts, lifting an eyebrow.

“I have done this before, you know,” she says, jerking her chin over her shoulder at Will and Jonathan, who lift their hands sheepishly. The paramedic colors, and Hopper claps his shoulder good naturedly.

“We’ll keep an eye on her, son. You drive carefully, those roads look like they’re still no joke,” he sees both of them out before leaning back against the door, looking at the collection of half-asleep faces before him. “Alright, guys. Who’s ready for some sleep?”

A tired chorus of affirmation answers him, and he knows sleep is a priority over anything else at the moment. He sends the kids to bed while he takes Jessie from Joyce carefully, and then helps his wife to her feet. While she showers, he carefully dresses Jessie in one of the woolen sleepers from the dresser after putting her in a new diaper. She’s so tiny when he places her in the center of the crib, and he stands there, staring at her, until Joyce presses herself against his back, cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Come to bed, sweetheart,” she whispers, voice heavy with exhaustion, and he can feel that same tiredness deep in his bones, warring with the joy laced through his bloodstream. “She isn’t going anywhere. I promise.”

His palm covers hers over his heart, and squeezes gently before he flicks the baby monitor on, carrying the receiver with him as he allows Joyce to guide him back to the bedroom. He belated realizes he should probably shower- it’s been awhile- but Joyce just helps him take his shirt and pants off, and pulls him into bed with just his boxers on.

“This feels vaguely familiar,” he murmurs once they’re settled, Joyce’s head pillowed on his chest and hands tucked between them. His wife snorts, her breath hitting his skin as she cuddled closer.

“Unfortunately for you, no more funny business for a while, mister,” she replies, and Hopper’s hand skims up her back until he can cup her neck, lips finding her forehead.

“Get some sleep, Mama,” he murmurs, and Joyce sighs, the sound morphing into a yawn halfway through. Her fingers tug at his chest hair briefly, her next words tinged with sleep and affection.

“I love you, James Hopper.”

She’s asleep in nearly the next breath, soft little snores issuing from her chest and puffing out over his skin. He presses another kiss to her head, nose in her hair.

“Not nearly as much as I love you, Joyce Hopper,” he murmurs back, finally allowing his eyes to sink shut and the darkness of sleep to overtake him.

_

He’s pulled from sleep by the sound of whispering.

Joyce is still sound asleep- she’s rolled away from him in her sleep, though one hand is still on his chest, fingers curled gently over his heart. He shifts carefully, not wanting her to wake up, and turns towards the baby monitor, where the sound was coming from.

He blinks the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, glancing at the clock- it reads nearly 7pm, and he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to wake himself up further. The whispering on the monitor continues, and he realizes that it’s El and Will’s voices combined- something in his chest softened, and he listened to them murmur over the crackling line.

“She’s so tiny,” El murmurs, and Will makes a noise of agreement. “She has Dad’s nose.”

Hopper smiles at that.

“She has Dad’s ears,” there’s laughter in Will’s voice, and warmth suffuses through him at the kid’s word choice. “But she looks like Mom.”

“Yeah,” El whispered, and there’s awe in her voice. “We’re gonna protect her, right Will?”

“Of course we are. She’s our baby sister,” Will replies, and there’s a stubbornness to his voice Hopper recognizes all too easily. “The newest member of the party.”

El lets out a giggle at that, and Hopper feels Joyce roll over next to him to snuggle up against his back.

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have my sleep schedule ruled by my tits,” she murmured and Hopper snorted, letting her twine their fingers together over his stomach. “Does it sound like she’s awake?”

“Not sure. El and Will are. She’s quiet, though,” he answers, and Joyce sighs, nuzzling against his neck.

“Well, I hope she’s hungry. My body sure thinks she should be,” his wife says, getting out of bed and wincing, a hand moving to her abdomen. “Just to reiterate: I am not doin’ this again. Jessie is _it_ on the baby front, James Hopper.”

“Hey, hey, don’t full name me like I planned this or somethin’,” Hopper holds his hands up, and Joyce snorts, shrugging into one of his flannels hanging on one of the closet hooks. He watches her disappear out the door, and figures it’s time to shower and figure out a food situation for everyone, considering the kids were clearly getting up as well. The fire would also need to be stoked, he could tell from the cooler temperature in the house, and he heaves himself out of bed, getting to his feet.

Shower first. The rest would follow.

_

When Joyce pushes the door to Jessie’s nursery open, El and Will are both peering over the edge of her crib, watching her intently.

“Hey guys,” she whispers, and they both turn, offering smiles. “Whatcha doin’?”

“We wanted to see her,” they both replied, and her returning smile is soft.

“Did you both at least get some sleep?” she asked, and they nodded vigorously. “Good. Hop’s starting breakfast after he takes a shower, why don’t you go see if the fire needs more wood for me?”

They both nod, and she receives tender, tentative hugs from both of the teenagers on their way out before she makes her way over to the crib, her whole being aching with love at the infant peering back up at her.

“Hello sweetheart,” she murmurs, lowering the crib bar and cradling Jessie, scooping her up into her arms. The baby nestled into her, nuzzling at her breast and whining lowly before letting out a grunt. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Joyce settles herself into the rocking chair and unbuttons her shirt, positioning Jessie and helping her latch, letting out a breath of relief when she started to suck with ease. “Oh, you’re going to be a good eater for me, I can already tell.”

She traces her fingertips over the back of Jessie’s clenched fist, continuing to murmur softly to her as she ate. She switches sides after a little while with only a small amount of fussing from her daughter, adjusting the tiny woolen hat over her ears when it slipped. When Jessie’s sucking slows to an almost stop, Joyce lifts her to her shoulder, patting her back gently until she got a few soft burps from her.

When Hopper finds her a little while later, she’s just watching Jessie sleep, studying all her tiny little features and falling even more in love with her.

“Her eyes are so blue,” she whispers when he kneels next to her, pressing a kiss to her elbow. “I’m so happy she got your eyes.”

He smiles at that, and Joyce just has to kiss him, tugging him up so her mouth can find his. He touches her cheek, and he’s smiling when he pulls back.

“Food’s ready if you’re hungry,” he tells her, and she nods, sitting up slightly so she can transfer Jessie to his arms.

“I’m starving,” she replies, allowing him to help her to her feet. She twines their fingers together as they walk down the hall, and the sight of the kids all gathered at the table lighting up at the sight of them nearly has her in tears.

“Mom, we saved you the burnt bacon,” El tells her, and Joyce grins, kissing her forehead as she sits beside her, pulling the foil off the plate with said burnt bacon.

“Oh, you’re my favorites,” she tells the group, watching as Hopper settles at the head of the table, Jessie still fast asleep and content in his arms. It strikes her for the first time that this was their life now, right like this, Jessie here and a part of it now, and happiness washes over her in waves.

They’d spent so long waiting for the other shoe to drop that the last nine months had simply flown by, and now they were here- their family complete and perfect with Jessie’s arrival. Joyce met Hopper’s gaze, soft and warm and so full of love she feels fit to burst, and finds all those emotions echoed in his eyes- so different from the man she’d gone to four years ago when her world had been turned upside down. They’d finally found their way back home, settled here at this table with all their kids happily passing food and talking about what Christmas decorations to dig out of the basement.

It had been more than worth the wait, she thinks, twining her fingers with her husband’s and squeezing gently. To have all this, after everything they’d suffered and survived.

They’d earned it.


End file.
